


The Evergreen Tree

by katierific



Category: Day6 (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M, POV Second Person, Reader-Insert & Yoon Dowoon Are Best Friends
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-09-20 23:31:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17032011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katierific/pseuds/katierific
Summary: Where you love giving back to nature, being one with the environment, and learning about wildlife. What you didn't know is that nature would give all that care back to you in good time. You didn't know he would be waiting for you under your favorite evergreen tree with his heart wide open.





	1. One. Lighting the Spark.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, everyone. This is my very first AU and post on AO3, and I am actually really nervous about it. I got this idea after finals week last semester, listening to Manchester Orchestra's Black Mile to the Surface under a tree at golden hour. In that moment, I felt a strange combination of feeling content with the end of a long semester and longing for my own Sungjin to be sat beside me, strumming his guitar.  
> Mydays; you all should listen to the aforementioned album, and, perhaps, Bonfire Heart by James Blunt. Both served as inspiration in some way.  
> Day6; thank you. For everything. I love you.  
> Enjoy the story.

You swing the doors of the library open, immediately and tightly crossing your arms over your chest and briefly shutting your eyes. The air is brisk, the sky is dark with clouds, but harsh breeze against your face is grounding, and, in that sense, relaxing. In this busy time of year, the intensity in something so natural like the winter air takes you out of your mind and back to the present. Drowning in the horrors of college during finals week can't be healthy.  _It's time to escape,_ you think to yourself. As you reach your car, you start the engine and ensure your must-haves are still in the back: two blankets--one in dark green plaid for laying on the ground, and a tan chunky-knit blanket to wrap yourself in. You smile to yourself and start off to your normal spot at the cusp of campus under your favorite evergreen tree.

During your drive, you reflect on something you and the evergreen have in common: you survive the seasons and embrace the intensity of nature. 

You park, grab your blankets, and begin walking up the gentle hill to your spot. Even the walk was therapeutic to you because it clearly reminded you that one of life's only consistencies was change. The shades of green alter as the seasons gradually and inevitably drag us through the year. Even if the your trips were too frequent to notice the seasons, your mind was whirring with new knowledge and experiences, or maybe it was how the squirrels and deer never behaved the same. Your reflective nature is something your friends always hark on; you can even hear your best friend, Dowoon, now; ' _and there y/n goes again, with her nature, mind, yoga, change, blah-blah-blah rants.'_ Those moments of teasing never failed to make you and your group of friends laugh, but, nonetheless, you believe it's important to take note of how the scenery and sounds take on new meanings as you walk further up the hill and through your life, not to mention your studies in Wildlife Conservation, and-- _wait,_ _is that someone in your spot?_

Well, not _your_ spot. You don't own it. It's just surprising to see someone else here when you visit so frequently, and it's always been a date between you and the sunset. 

You were lost in thoughts for so long that its too late to make it look like you were walking somewhere else. It's a tall man laying on his stomach as he writes in a leather-bound journal. He doesn't pay much attention to you, but you know the stranger can feel your presence when he tucks his notebook closer to his chest. You swallow a lump in your throat and think to yourself, ' _what is there to be nervous about? It's just someone else....in your safe haven....and you're looming over him.'_

"Hi, or..hello, sir. Do you mind if I take a spot near this tree, too?" you quietly ask the stranger. He looks up at you, locking eyes. Dark, border-line black, orbs of chocolate warmly greet your own pair of smokey greens. You swear you witness an upward tug at the corners of his lips, "yes, please." You smile and nod in return, choosing a spot that puts him between you and the evergreen tree.  

You cross your legs and wrap the chunky-knit blanket around yourself. A comfortable silence swirls between you two, enhancing the sounds of shifting positions, the scratch of his pencil, and whatever sounds nature serves you. You assume he is here for the same reason as you: to escape. 

"I, um, I think its an eastern hemlock," he quietly mutters. If his first word hadn't caused your gaze to shift his way and notice him softly returning the look, you might think it was only to himself. You heartily reply with a closed mouth smile before beginning, "It is, actually. The needles are so distinctive. I love those two white stripes underneath each flat needle," he furrows his brow and gently pulls down a branch to examine as you continue, "and I love how the cones flair and look like some soft of a... fancy dress. That's exactly it! Nature really is the best with designs and how things fit together, and I don't just mean science! Even the little things like color palettes, and....and, um," you realized you'd started rambling, so you look downward and clear your throat as a way to excuse yourself, "I'm...yeah, sorry."

His eyes snap from the branch and onto you, "No, that was so interesting. I like to come here, I had noticed one of the cones land on my blanket one day, so I looked it up. I never thought to really look at its needles so in depth." 

You look down, swiping hair from in front of your glasses, "It isn't something too-too interesting. I actually study Wildlife Conservation here, so even if it wasn't my favorite tree, I would be able to tell you about the eastern hemlock."

"I think its my favorite, too. I find myself under that one, as well," he states with that soft smile while pointing to a tree slightly down the hill and to the right, "what can you tell me about it?"

And from here, you feel the spirit of the evergreen overtake you both. The ensuing conversation was as effortless and unconstrained as the evergreen tree that bent, swayed, and hushed the winter wind with its rattling branches as its current whispered into its cones and needles. You hadn't been checking the time, but instinct told you it had been at least an hour when you realized the conversation naturally dwindled for you both to admire the cleared skies and the red-hot sunset. It felt fitting that the only things other than the sunset grabbing your attention were the sounds of trees bustling, birds chirping, and the stranger's pencil scratching. 

_Stranger?_

"May I-" "What is-" You both share a laugh and a blush. He looks away and rubs the back of his neck. 

"Sungjin, Park Sungjin. I study Contemporary Guitar Performance here. I...this is the perfect place on campus to write music," he pauses. His smile is what pulls you in. That ever-present soft smile beams a little brighter when he talks about his music. It's endearing; it makes you want to know more. "And, you?"

"I'm  y/n. I've definitely told you enough about my thing for, you know...nature--" 

"I would love to hear more." 

His reply is so quick you that you almost don't register it. He looks shy, almost embarrassed, but you can't help beaming. You decide embrace an intensity that isn't as comforting as the wind hitting your face after a too-long study session,

"I was just thinking that about your music. Maybe one day we can see each other again and you can show me what you work on. I've given you your fair share of tree-talk." 

The sunset is jealous at how bright you two are. "Yeah, y/n, I would love that."

A brief silence falls over you two. Neither of you seem to want to make the move to get up and end the night, but you notice him shut his journal, stand with his blanket, and get ready to speak. You choose to cut him off, "Sungjin, why do I never see you? If we both come here so often, where have you been?"

"I like to think that..." he purses his lips and glances toward the evergreen tree, almost seeming to search for an answer, "nature...has its way of bringing people together. You even said it yourself earlier; nature has a talent for design and how to fit things together." 

"I'll see you again?" you ask, with a small smile. He shoves his hands in his coat pockets and lifts his gaze from his shoes to meet your eyes. You feel a sort of intensity the wind could only mock.

"Well, y/n, this is  _our_ evergreeen, isn't it?"

 


	2. Two. The Warm Hearth.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where you are finally getting in quality time with your best friend of years, Yoon Dowoon. When you ask if he knows a certain Park Sungjin, it seems as if the story is only beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No, I don't know how to write summaries. Honestly, this chapter is just story building material. I hope you enjoy reader & Dowoon's dynamic nonetheless. Some songs to listen to are Regular by NCT 127 and Just Do It by Seventeen BSS. Those are songs I've had fun listening to with my cousin lately, and I think the dynamic between Dowoon and reader is subconscously inspired by that.

_SPLAT._

"YOON DOWOON!" 

And, of course, you don’t need to remove your eyes from the mess of cake batter on the counter to know your best friend is hunched over, slapping his knees, heartily laughing. After glancing over to see some batter clinging to his cheek and shirt, you can't suppress the snicker any longer, "you really must be an idiot if you thought that was going to work." 

The two of you were spontaneous. From small, unforeseen gatherings, like tonight's bake-a-thon (as Dowoon had called it, of course), to large-scale endeavors, like last weekend's road-trip across the border into Canada, nothing was scripted. And neither of you would have it any other way; honestly, for you, it was oddly relaxing how spontaneity simultaneously took life's reigns out of your hands but also put you in complete control. As for Dowoon, he seemed to need the excitement and adrenaline rush of the unexpected. No thinking; just doing, laughing, and enjoying. 

And that was precisely what you two were doing with poorly mixed cake batter, a preheating oven, and an unevenly greased pan. 

"I really don't understand how using the side of the bowl and a wooden spoon like a see-saw was going to get the batter anywhere  _but_ all over you." 

"I really don't understand how you can't see the path it was supposed to go, from this bowl," interrupted by a sound effect,  _whoosh,_ "then the physics and air and...stuff will keep it on the spoon," another  _whoosh,_ "and then it lands in the pan," lastly, a _bloop_.You can only scrunch your face, frown, and shake your head. 

"What?!" he exclaims. 

"I think the only think thing I actually understand right now is how you got that 71 in Intro to Mechanical Designs."

"Y/N, you  _literally_ don't know what that even means." He throws his hands on his hips and a scowl on his face. He's always been so dramatic and expressive.

Dowoon truly has been the fire in your life since you two started bonding the second year of high school. Yes, it's true, he was, himself, a flame; which way would he dance? when would he move? It was impossible to tell, but why he kept the heat was obvious: to warm others. You can recall how he'd given up his dreams of becoming an actor, no matter how much it crushed him, to study mechanical engineering and accept scholarships from the school of engineering. Even when his dreams were thrown away, he knew he was lifting a great financial debt off of his lower-middle class parents. He did it, of course, with a fire in his eye, soft upward curls at the outer edges of his lips, and a determination to do well. If not for himself, then for his family. Back then, he assured you he'd be okay between acting and singing as extra-curricular hobbies and reminding himself of the expected salary. Perhaps, he was right. But the thing about fire is that no matter how much they warm others, they still dance on their own accord. And that's exactly how Dowoon barely scraped a 71 out of MAES.  

He danced forth, nonetheless. 

You remember how he'd been there for you when you most needed it. But with the oven's preheat timer dinging and a confused Dowoon preoccupied with cleaning cake batter off of his shirt, you decide it's better to confront those memories another time. 

\-----

The cake is (poorly) made and topped with an (uneven) spread of chocolate icing. You both take your typical spots at either end of the couch, facing each other. "You know," you start, digging into your slice of cake with a fork, "this is almost picture perfect. We could be on an album cover. Maybe a book. I don't know." 

He snickers, despite the food in his mouth, "Yeah, when I find someone who wants to write some songs about a baking engineer, a tree-hugger, and a shitty cake, I'll be sure to invite them over. But I guess you're right. The symmetry is satisfying." 

Why did that make you think of _him?_ You suppose it was only since Dowoon messaged you only a few minutes after you'd watched Sungjin's sedan disappear over a nearby hill. You open your phone to make sure you're not crazy. 

**Yoon Dowoon:**  "so.....y/n....looking for some fun tonight? ;)......im thinking a BAKE-A-THON!!!!"  _4 hours ago_

You smile as you relock your phone and set it back on the coffee table. Your mind slips into the recent past. Warmth wasn't quite the descriptor for talking with Sungjin. That was for Dowoon; sitting across from him was like a night at the campfire. You felt at peace and engulfed in warmth. No, Sungjin elicits a different kind of peace. He was natural. He didn't need an invitation to plant himself in your forest. Of course, "tree-hugger," you yearn to know more. 

"Weird question," you start, keeping your eyes down at your cake, "have you heard of a Park Sungjin?" You two exchanged schedules at the start of the semester, so you knew that Dowoon finds himself in the Creative Arts Center on Monday and Wednesday evening for vocal coachings and musical rehearsals. It's worth a shot.

You hear a short hum and his fork hit is plate, "Actually, maybe. I mean, this university has, what, 30,000 kids? Doubt its the same guy since you're all into trees and stuff. _But,_ I know a Park  _seok-_ jin from freshman-year biology that might be the guy, not sure what his major was--"

"No, no, he is in the music program," You look up to see Dowoon with a raised eyebrow, "he...plays guitar, writes songs, loves to sing..."

"Maybe I know your guy. How d'ya know him? Tinder?" 

A hefty  _pffft_ escapes your lips, "funny." When you say nothing, he gestures to continue with his eyes and his free hand. Again, Dowoon has always been dramatic and expressive. 

"No,  _Dowoon,_ " you spat--you've learned how to deliver the drama and expression right back, "he was just sitting by that tree I told you I like--"

"Oh, so he's a tree-hugger, too?"

"Yes--wait,  _no!_   I know a total of, let's see," you tap your cheek with your pointer finger, pretending to think, "zero things about him. I just wanted to know if, maybe, you'd heard the name at the Creative Arts Center. Or something. Whatever. So, do you know him or not?" 

He laughs at how easy it was to frustrate you. You're used to this dynamic in your friendship. 

"I think I do, actually. Does he study guitar?" You nod. "Then, yeah. This is your guy. I mean, I've never met him, but I've heard the name. A bunch of the guys that sit in the back of that Monday night vocal class are actual music majors, and they talk like the entire room needs to hear whatever they have to say about 'last night's gig,' or 'music theory homework,' or even how 'Park Sungjin is in love with a chick he met at some tree.'"

You roll your eyes, "that  _literally_ couldn't have happened. I just met him today, we're not in love, and I know nothing about him." 

"Okay, _maybe_ I made up the last part. But, honestly, that's all I've got."

You nod and get back to your cake. You weren't sure exactly what you expected to get from asking Dowoon about Sungjin. It was certain he wouldn't have already known Sungjin. After Dowoon asks the following question, though, you think you subconsciously knew he'd suggest it:

"so, y/n, what I'm getting from this conversation is I start sitting in the back of Monday night vocal coaching." 

Was it necessary? Oh, of course not. You knew in your heart Sungjin would be back at the evergreen tree. But what you also know is Dowoon likes excitement. You never know what Dowoon has up his sleeve, and neither does he. Dowoon raises an eyebrow accompanied by a suggestive smirk. You're sure he knows your mind is whirring with all the reasons that this is silly and even wrong.  _'but, honestly,'_ you think to yourself,  _'all he is suggesting is switching seats. No giant hook-up plan. No biggie.'_ You decide embrace an intensity that is far more exciting than the wind hitting your face after a too-long study session.

You and Dowoon lock eyes, smirk, and nod. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> twt (which I am always on): @/fatherwonpil  
> tumblr (that i basically never use): lovelyjoonbug . tumblr
> 
> more to come. hehe.

**Author's Note:**

> twt (which I am always on): @/fatherwonpil  
> tumblr (that i basically never use): lovelyjoonbug . tumblr
> 
> expect more chapters. hehe.


End file.
